mend! Isn't it heavenly sitting by the roadside like tramps?"

They had sat like tramps for an hour or two. She did not look
particularly like a tramp, for she had a huge fur cloak on at first,
designed originally to defeat the cold wind occasioned by the speed at
which they hoped to travel, which up till then had been about three
miles an hour. This she had taken off, and sat on a rug taken from the
disgraceful car, and treated the whole affair like a huge joke. There
never was such a good comrade; if she had been a boy, out on a motor for
the first time, she could not have adopted a franker air of amused
enjoyment at these accidents of the road. They had made periodic visits
to the car and the hammering chauffeur, and then the Great Hunger, about
which she had already spoken, had begun. She had confessed to an awful
inanition, and had suggested things to eat, till the fact that other
people were already sitting down to dine, having had tea, became
absolutely unbearable. Then suddenly she had stopped the nonsense and
said, "I am so glad that this has happened. Being left in the Bath Road
like this makes one know a man better, doesn't it? I always wanted to
know you better. Oh, the compliment is ambiguous. I haven't told you yet
whether you improve on acquaintance."

And then, just as they stopped at the door and the motor hooted its
apologies, she turned to him.

"What a pity!" she had said. "I hate nice things coming to an end."

That particular nice thing had certainly come to an end, but he was
firmly determined that there were a quantity of nice things not yet
begun. He was genuinely attached to Daisy; he fully intended to ask her
to be his wife, and contemplated, in case he was so fortunate as to
obtain a "yes" from her, many serene and happy years. And, indeed, he
was no coxcomb; he did not fancy that any girl he saw was willing to
marry him if he wished to marry her, but at the same time he did not
feel that it was in the least likely that Daisy would refuse him. And as
he came out after dinner that night, after so successfully looking bored
in the dining-room, he had not altered his mind in the least; his
intentions were still all fully there. But that was no reason why he
should not talk to Mrs. Halton. He was quite capable even of talking to
her about Daisy.

It was then that the action of the tragic little farce really began.
Daisy had heard the sound of his voice before they turned the corner of
the